


Emmatropia

by HelveticaBrown



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lately, Regina can't seem to focus on anything other than Emma Swan and she can't quite figure out why that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emmatropia

**Author's Note:**

> This fic only exists so I could make a pun using the title that probably no one will get. It was supposed to be short and crack-ish but it's turning out rather different than what I expected.
> 
> It's set in a post-3b landscape, but with a few tweaks.

* * *

“Mom, I think you need glasses. This is the third time this week you’ve tripped on your way into Granny’s. And yesterday, you walked into a street sign. And then there was that letterbox you hit while you were driving last week.”

“Henry, dear, my eyes are working perfectly.” She hasn’t had her eyes tested since the curse broke so she holds the menu up at arm’s length and reads it just to be certain. She’s perhaps a little too relieved when Granny’s genuine 1985 prices prove to be sharply in focus and she spends more time than she needs perusing the range of egg options on the menu. The truth is she _has_ noticed something not quite right but it’s not something she really wants to give too much thought to.

Henry pulls out a notebook, frowning as he thumbs through it. “Mom, I really think there’s something going on. I’ve been keeping a log and so far I’ve recorded seventeen different incidents. And those are just the ones _I_ know about. There could be more.”

He’s looking at her seriously, and she rushes to reassure him. “Dear, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve just had a lot going on at work lately and I’m probably tired.”

Zelena overhears their conversation and pops her head up over the wall of the next booth, like some kind of deranged meerkat, and Regina only just manages to resist the urge to throw the dinner roll that’s just been put in front of her. She thinks better of it though; she doesn’t want to model that kind of behaviour in front of Henry.

“You know, Sis, you are getting on a bit. Short-sightedness is a common sign of ageing and by my math, you’re almost seventy.” Zelena smirks and continues, “Is that a liver spot I see on your hand?”

“Need I remind you that you’re older than me?” Regina snarls. She’s beginning to seriously regret her decision to let Zelena be rehabilitated in the community.

“Ah, but I wear my age so much better than you do.” Zelena’s smile widens as she says, “Just think of the benefits, Sis. Soon you’ll be able to get the senior’s discount at Granny’s for Monday lunches. It’s soup, just in case you forget your dentures.”

Regina thinks better of her restraint, picking up the dinner roll and measuring its heft. She’s too busy glaring at Zelena to notice when Emma approaches their table. She’s just about to release her glutinous missile when Emma speaks. Regina turns abruptly to face Emma and her vision begins to swim for a moment before settling on Emma. She’s so startled by the change in her vision that she lets go of the dinner roll. It hits a very blurry, although still visibly outraged Granny and lands with a splash in the bowl of soup she’s carrying.

Regina suppresses the flicker of alarm that threatens to become more and begins to apologise, while Zelena cackles in the background. It takes a while, a rather large dent to her pride and a promise to consider a permit application for some renovations to the diner, but she finally manages to douse Granny’s rage. And as she does it, she thinks maybe she’s gone soft, or maybe there really is something wrong with her, because there would have been a time when Granny’s opinion of her would not have mattered in the slightest. But Henry does like the hot chocolate here and he’d be really disappointed if Granny banned them, so there’s that…

Granny finally walks away, muttering grumpily to herself. Zelena is still hanging over the edge of the booth and even though Regina can’t see her particularly clearly, she’s certain that her expression is irritatingly smug. Her sister may not be trying to take over Storybrooke or kill her anymore, but somehow she still manages to get on Regina’s last nerve.

“Well that was a thoroughly embarrassing performance, Sis. Watching you grovel in front of that peasant… I can’t believe I let myself be defeated by someone so pathetic.”

She tries to think of a suitable retort but for once she’s lost for words. Her vision is still swimming and with every passing minute she’s beginning to feel more anxious. The last few times this has happened it’s only been for a few brief moments but this has persisted long past the point where she can discount it as being nothing.

“Mom…” Henry’s trying to get her attention, but it almost hurts to look at him. Meanwhile, Zelena’s continuing to goad her and she wants nothing more than for her to shut up. She feels around for something on the table and her hand closes around something hard. She thinks about picking it up, but there’s a warning hand on her arm and soft voice in her ear that stops her.

“You know, I’ve never arrested anyone for throwing bread before, but if you pick up that salt shaker, well that’d be a completely different story,” Emma says. There’s no real threat in her voice and when Regina turns to face her properly, her eyes come back into focus for a moment and she sees the gentle concern there. Emma holds her gaze. “She’s not worth it,” she says and Regina knows she’s right and wonders when Emma became this good at reading her. She’s not sure she would have done anything anyway, but maybe it’s better that she didn’t find out.

She finally releases her grip on the salt shaker and Zelena cackles again. “Just as well. Based on that last attempt, you’d probably hit that dwarf over there.”

“Mom, are you okay?”

She ignores Zelena’s taunt and squints, trying to bring Henry into focus. She can’t make out his face properly, but she can hear the concern in his voice. “I’m fine, dear.” She manages to summon a smile but suspects it’s too much of a grimace to fool anyone, let alone Henry.

She turns to Emma again. “Henry’s staying with you tonight,” she says and pushes past her, not waiting for a response. She ignores Henry and Emma calling after her and as she leaves Granny’s, her vision finally settles like nothing had ever been wrong with her. She hurries home and tries to push the disturbing events from her mind.

*****

A couple of days later she reluctantly goes to the optometrist. Everything’s been normal since the incident in the diner, but Henry’s been nagging her relentlessly and as much as she’d like to, she can’t ignore it any longer. There’s definitely something wrong with her eyes and she hopes it’s something that can be solved with glasses rather than something more serious. She tries not to think about all the times she’s taken blows to the head, been knocked out, been hurt…

She endures the battery of tests the optometrist puts her through and isn’t sure whether to be relieved or more worried when he pronounces her vision to be perfect.

“I don’t understand how that’s possible. I’ve been having these moments where everything turns really blurry.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, but it’s not a problem with your eyes. You should probably see a doctor.” There’s an implication in his tone that she’s not sure she likes.

She’s just about to leave when the world shifts again just like it did the other night. The store and the optometrist are suddenly a blur and all she can see is Emma Swan peering at her quizzically.

“Hey Regina. I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

It takes her a moment to respond. “I don’t and I didn’t realise you did either.”

Emma smiles. “Contacts. I used to wear the thickest coke-bottle lenses you’ve ever seen.”

Regina squints and tries to focus in on the particular blur that she thinks the optometrist is. He’s standing behind Emma and she can barely distinguish between him and a display stand of what she vaguely remembers were sunglasses. She swallows down the rising panic she feels and says to him, “It’s happening again. Everything is a blur.”

The optometrist leads her through to the back room to check her again and as he closes the door her vision settles again.

“I don’t know what’s happening but my sight just returned to normal again.”

He makes an exasperated noise. “I don’t know what more I can do for you. Like I said before, maybe you should go see a doctor.”

She walks back out to the main showroom ahead of him and stops abruptly when her vision shifts again. The optometrist crashes into her and complains noisily; she ignores him as she finally begins to make sense of what’s going on. She walks up to Emma and grabs hold of her wrist.

“Ow! Regina, what the hell?” The confusion on Emma’s face is as clear as everything else is not.

“Emma, have you been trying any new magic lately? Messed around with any artefacts or new spells?”

“I’ve only been practising the stuff you’ve shown me.” Emma frowns and there’s concern in her voice as she asks, “Regina, what’s going on?”

She scrambles for a response. She’s not sure what to reveal to Emma at this point given _she_ still doesn’t really know what’s going on. “Ah… nothing. I was just wondering how you’re progressing. It’s been a while since we’ve had a lesson.”

Emma narrows her eyes and Regina’s not particularly surprised when Emma challenges her lie. It was a weak one anyway. “Bullshit, Regina. I know you well enough to know when you’re hiding something.” Her voice softens. “Whatever it is, I want to help.”

She finally releases her hold on Emma and when Emma starts to massage her wrist, Regina grimaces. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m serious, Regina. You were acting weird the other night and now you’re doing it again today. I’m worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Emma.” She takes hold of Emma’s arm again, gently this time, and forces what she hopes appears to be a genuine smile. “I promise.”

Emma looks unconvinced, but she doesn’t follow when Regina walks out of the store. Regina sighs with relief as the world around her comes back into focus. Somehow she hadn’t managed to put the pieces together before, but now she’s sure that this is related to Emma and that magic is almost certainly involved. And now the million-dollar question is, who is behind this and what are they trying achieve?

*****

She doesn’t bother knocking; she throws open the door to Zelena’s apartment and walks straight in to the living room.

Zelena doesn’t look up from the soap opera she’s watching on the television. “What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me what you’ve done to me and how to fix it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Regina moves into the centre of the room, blocking Zelena’s view of the television, and stands with her arms folded. “I don’t believe you.”

Zelena finally looks up, lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Believe what you want, but I can hardly have done whatever it is you’ve come to accuse me of. My magic is locked away tighter than the crown jewels, remember? You made doubly sure of that.” She holds up her arm letting the sleeve fall away, exposing the cuff around her wrist. “The most I’m capable of doing to you is pouring weed-killer on your tulips in the middle of the night.”

Regina tries to keep her face expressionless when she sees the clumsily-bandaged cuts next to the cuff. She doesn’t have anything to feel guilty about – Zelena was a threat that needed to be neutralised – but somehow there’s a sick, shameful feeling churning in the pit of her stomach. She forces herself to ignore it.

“Just because you don’t have your own magic, it doesn’t mean you couldn’t have found some way to hurt me. Maybe you’re working with someone else.”

“I really do wish I had done it because it seems to have you rather worked up, but I didn’t. If you do find out who it was, I’d appreciate you telling me so I can buy them a drink.” Zelena smiles sweetly.

Regina’s instincts are telling her Zelena had nothing to do with it; it’s too subtle and she can’t quite see what Zelena would be getting out of a scheme like this. Nonetheless, she pins her with a glare and says, “If I find out you had something to do with this…”

Zelena interrupts her. “The only thing I’m interested in right now is seeing if Brady finds out that Summer killed Clarke.” Zelena gestures past her at the television. “So I’d really appreciate it if you’d move out of the way and let me keep watching my show.”

Regina moves to leave, but hesitates. Before she can think better of it she leans over and runs her hand over Zelena’s arm, knitting together torn, broken flesh until it’s replaced with flawless cream skin.

Zelena doesn’t look up from the television and Regina leaves a moment later.

She tries Gold next and he outright laughs at her accusations.

“I’m surprised you can’t smell it, dearie. You positively _stink_ of fairy magic.”

She curses as she leaves his shop, his laughter still ringing in her ears, and she heads straight to Granny’s to try and track down Tinkerbell. She’s in luck; she finds her sitting at the bar. Regina sits down on the next stool and orders a coffee.

“Regina.” Tinkerbell looks over at her blearily, before turning back to what is clearly not her first drink of the day.

It’s been a while since Regina’s seen Tinkerbell; the last time they’d spoken, Tinkerbell had been trying to push her towards Robin Hood. She’d been planning to confront Tinkerbell guns blazing, but seeing her so despondent, so vulnerable, Regina softens for a moment. “Now you’ve got your wings back are you ever going to move into the convent with the other fairies?”

Tinkerbell smiles grimly. “I tried going back. I lasted two days. Blue’s even more overbearing than I remembered.”

“So instead you’re sitting at Granny’s and day-drinking?”

“That’s not really any of your business.” Tinkerbell peers at her, her eyes a little sharper now. “But this isn’t what you came to talk about, is it?”

“You’re right, it’s not. You’ve done something to me, haven’t you? Cast a spell, spiked my coffee with fairy dust… something. I want to know what you’ve done.”

Tinkerbell shakes her head. “I just assumed it hadn’t worked. You’re still not with Robin Hood and this was supposed to help you see your way to him.”

“I already told you I had no intention of talking to Robin. Whatever we might once have been doesn’t exist anymore. I feel nothing when I look at him.” Through gritted teeth, Regina says, “And I asked you not to interfere.”

“I know.” Tinkerbell drains the rest of her drink and grimaces. “I know you didn’t ask me to do this, but I _have_ to help you. I don’t quite know how to explain it…” She shakes her head as if to clear it before continuing. “It’s like a compulsion, like I’m called to help you. I tried to ignore it for as long as I could, but…” She shrugs.

The moment of sympathy she’d felt earlier has thoroughly evaporated and Regina feels a pang of regret that she’s supposed to be one of the good guys now, because she really, really feels like wringing Tinkerbell’s scrawny neck. She occupies herself by twisting a napkin in her hands, instead.

“Well, from where I’m sitting, this doesn’t feel very helpful.” Regina makes an effort to lower her voice when she realises that the waitress idling behind the counter has started to stare at them. “I mean, I don’t see how messing with my eyesight every time I see Emma Swan is supposed to accomplish anything.”

Tinkerbell’s brow crinkles in confusion and she tilts her head to the side as she looks at Regina. “What does Emma Swan have to do with anything? I cast a spell that was supposed to send you a vision or a dream. Something to help you see your way to Robin.”

“Well that’s not what happened. You were drunk when you cast that spell, weren’t you?” Regina’s voice starts to rise again and there’s a possibility starting to form in her mind, one she hopes is way off base.

Tinkerbell avoids meeting her eyes as she says, “Maybe a little.”

Regina forces herself to appear calm, even though she’s feeling anything but. Her voice is soft as she asks, “What exactly did you say or think when you were casting this spell? The _exact_ words.”

Tinkerbell screws up her face as she thinks. After a few moments, she finally responds. “I’m not sure I remember the exact words, but I think I wished that your heart could see love clearly. Or something like that.”

“Oh.” It’s barely more than an exhalation and Regina feels like all the breath has been stolen from her lungs. The possibility she’d considered a moment ago seems more like a certainty now and she doesn’t know how to feel about it.

“So you didn’t see Robin Hood?”

Regina shakes her head.

“And Emma Swan?” Tinkerbell is watching her intently now.

“Is all I can see clearly whenever she’s around,” Regina says in a whisper that’s more to herself than to Tinkerbell. She sits there for a moment, dazed at the realisation, before coming back to herself. She grabs Tinkerbell’s arm and locks eyes with her. “You need to fix this.” 

“I don’t know how.”


End file.
